


The Sacred Deer

by Silent_With_Sound



Category: Hush (2016 Flanagan)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Character Development, Crimes & Criminals, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hush - Freeform, Hush 2016, Hush movie, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Maddie Young - Freeform, Mike Flanagan, Murder, Psychological Horror, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Stalking, Survival Horror, The Man - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:40:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26132818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_With_Sound/pseuds/Silent_With_Sound
Summary: It's been exactly one year since the Man attacked Maddie in their game of cat and mouse, but both lived. In this continuation, we see how they will reunite again.Each chapter is a split between Maddie and the Man's POV.
Relationships: The Man/Maddie Young
Comments: 20
Kudos: 62





	1. Holding out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfic. I really love Hush as a slasher film, but also saw a strange sexual tension between the Man and Maddie. I loved the characters and wanted to flesh them out more.  
> I DO NOT CONDONE VIOLENCE OR ABUSE.
> 
> Also thank you for no one hating on my grammar, I haven't written in a very long time and I'm trying my best to get better.
> 
> Wow my writing has gotten so much better since starting this thing, so I might end up rewriting the first 4 chapters.

Maddie remembers that fateful night like an old friend. The edges of each memory imbrued with blood, pain, terror, disorientation and hunger. A primal hunger to live that she has never felt before. Regardless of being disabled and caught off guard, she was able to survive, only barely due to sheer luck and a neglected corkscrew that had fallen almost out of reach as his hands clenched her windpipe. _Him. The Man_. The sunken eyed, cowardly menace who had killed her neighbors and snuffed out any shred of innocence she had left. So, technically, still a triple homicide.

She only remembers that last of the three hour ordeal scantly. Less of an ordeal, more like a living nightmare. _"Do it, coward"_ Maddie had vengefully wrote with her own blood as a final threat on her sliding glass door. If he was going to slaughter her, she wasn't going to go down without a fight. She still has the brief goodbye letter written for her loved ones saved on her Macbook. Sometimes when things get too difficult and the post traumatic stress is heavy, she reads it quickly and finds strength. Unfortunately, things aren't that simple. She has to be careful, because she wasn't the only one who made it out alive.

Living out in the wilderness is magical and quaint, but when looking for real estate she never considered being too far from first responders. After she had skewered his neck, his grip had fallen and he collapsed, she assumed that was it. He was dead weight, she didn't think he was gone, she _KNEW_ (... Or maybe _hoped_.). Grabbing her phone from his hunting vest was first then getting away from him was second. Maddie waited outside for the police for close to half an hour, on her porch wrapped in a blanket while stroking her cat for comfort, in deep shock.

But when the police arrived, he was long gone.

They traced his DNA, he must have been from out of state being there was no match. It had to have been impossible, to grotesquely bond with this crossbow wielding shell of a man who had hunted her, spoken to her, looked her square in the eyes only feet away, strangled her, then to just fucking vanish in thin air with his bodily fluids, hair and skin cells all over her kitchen floor. He had done this before 13 times. He knew how to avoid getting caught. She remembers his face, reading his lips. _"Seriously, Maddie, maybe you can come back and live with me...."_ Him mocking the eavesdropped conversation she had with Max, her sister. Him telling her to enjoy it. He knew so much about her yet she knew nothing of him except his face and presence.

Living on after that had been a challenge. The house in the woods was sold as she entered the witness protection program and knew she would have to leave and never come back. He had kicked her out of her home essentially. Her right hand had been demolished by his hunting boot but mostly recovered except for her pinky. The best thing that came from all of this was the birth of her second novel, _Unwelcome Visitor_. _Sweetwater_ , her original project had been swept under the rug. Enduring therapy and zoloft didn't help her much but channeling everything in her writing was a spoonful of sugar. It gave her control back.

Unwelcome Visitor was a success. It was a dirty little secret that it was based on real events, though. Not even her publishers and editor had any idea, all they knew was she had been inspired by the murder of her neighbors. Maddie wondered where ever the man was, if he even made it out of the woods alive, had he managed to read a copy of their transcribed battle? She hoped he did. She wasn't going to give up her career just to hide from him, almost knowing it would be her undoing in the back of her mind.

The money from book sales was ample income for a good two years, on top of what she was able to get for her house. She only moved an hour away, of course into a town with the police nearby. Her new home was sealed tight with a privacy fence, imitating her former seclusion while becoming an impenetrable fortress. Ironically, now, she keeps a crossbow under her bed near where her pillow is. _Learned from the best,_ which was always a personal joke to herself no one was in on.

In the back of her mind, if he is breathing somewhere, thriving, then they have unfinished business. One of them was supposed to die that night and they both failed to kill one another. Even if it's a year later, that doesn't change anything. Just because a wound heals doesn't mean it won't leave a disfigurement or a gaping hole behind. Under all the big scary knives and bolts though, was just a regular, fucked up man who could still bleed and scream. Like Maddie, who even though she couldn't hear or speak, was more than capable of defending herself against someone who had all five of his senses.

Still though, whenever she looks out her back patio screen door, she still sees a mouth calmly and almost flirtatiously lipping, _"I'm coming in."_ Whenever she sits in her tub with warm water and bath bombs bubbling beneath her, she can feel a faint breath on her nape. He isn't there, but _he is_.

Maybe all of this had been replaying like a broken record because tomorrow was the one year anniversary of the stalking. In her soft bed, with the light of the street lamp shining in gently, she looks out of the window to a twinkling sky. Sitting up looking at her alarm clock, seeing it's exactly 12:01 in the morning. she chuckles while saying in her mind _"Happy anniversary, shit head."_

\----------------------------------------------------  
He washes his face in the tarnished bathroom sink. Inspecting his throat in the medicine cabinet mirror, seeing the scared lump of the puncture wound that almost ended his life. 14 is an unlucky number now. exactly a year later to the dot of what ended his killing spree, he sees the shine of his phone gleaming 12:01 Am in the corner. _"Happy anniversary, you cunt."_ He numbly whispers to his reflection, remembering the slender deaf and mute woman who apparently was too good to be prey. Ever since then, he has acquired tattoos all over his torso, arms and neck, to conceal the trademark deer skull that Maddie used to describe him.

Eyes meet the small scars scattered throughout his upper body, most hidden by black and grey graffiti but he always remembers them, the story and the feeling. Jack isn't a big guy, 5'9'' and regular build. Aside from intimidating body art, a very average looking white man with an almost pleasant face when he tries. People always remember his green eyes though.

His small woodland cabin has always been a place where he could be human, or at least allow himself to be. This was once his fathers, Jack inherited it when the bottle finally ruined his liver after binge drinking for 30 years. Mom wasn't so fortunate, she died when he was 6 of an overdose. She was a junkie and a prostitute, but sincerely tried the best she could for him aside from her promiscuity and addiction.

Father was an abusive alcoholic while mother sold her body to support his habit and shot up heroin to escape the pain of everyday living. A fitting and tragic backstory for a violent serial killer. Maybe if things had been different he wouldn't have become the psychopath he is, but it could also be genetic for all he knows. Or his dad beat him too many times and damaged his frontal cortex. He doesn't care and doesn't wonder. All people deserve to die, and immortality is a thing of legends and lies.

He was a game warden for these forests, loving to hunt within it's welcoming trees and always feeling accepted in it's lack of civilization. Guns never felt right in his hand though, almost like cheating, he always used a crossbow instead. When he was ten a crossbow was the only Christmas present he had ever received from his selfish father. Jack thought at times maybe his dad gave it to him so he could kill him with it, in the back of his mind. Loading one took hand strength and practice, not being as easy as it looks in movies.

Alone, he started to venture into the woods, shooting animals of all sizes and always receiving an orgasmic rush of euphoria with each little life he took. He quickly moved to large game once the bow and he knew each other well, independently taking down bucks and even black bears. It kept him away from his father, and killing these animals gave him control he didn't have anywhere else. Killing made him feel _safe,_ putting chains on the neck of inner demons.

Somehow, he was able to be extremely charismatic with people even if he hadn't been properly socialized. Manipulating others was a learned trade that just needed polishing, even when he didn't understand people in general. It was all theater to him, he didn't particularly care about anyone, not since the passing of his mother. Getting a job, getting a date, getting sex were mostly easy. Even when he did have sex, climaxing still wasn't the same feeling he got when he hunted.

The fantasy of killing a person frequented his mind for a large chunk of his adolescence and early adulthood until the itch became too hard not to scratch. Bucks and bears were boring, and he wanted something that could scream and think on his level. He decided when he was taking a vacation to go as far south as he could and find a life to take and the moment he was done, he would run home.

He managed to make a plaster mask for himself and leather gloves, while the rest was his hunting attire. The first was a woman living by herself in Florida, in a farmhouse. He figured she was a widow. He waited for her to go to feed her horses and shot her with his crossbow before slitting her throat. Driving home for an entire day, painfully sleep deprived was well worth it. After that an easy 12 with a much more cat and mouse styled chase, following the same routine of traveling somewhere far where no one knew of him and he couldn't be traced. A subtle double life of killing on the weekends when he got the chance to travel just to be back at work again, minding his woods, day dreaming of shots fired in the silent night to the sound of intoxicating shrieks.

That is, till he killed a woman who ran to the aid of her friend who didn't respond to her pleas of rescue while banging on a glass door. After stabbing her more than enough times to end her suffering, he saw the mysterious woman, with curled brown hair and bell bottoms. Tapping on the glass out of curiosity, only to be ignored. Something felt very different about this situation, his first thought was maybe she was hard of hearing or listening to music in wireless earbuds. He remembers her being extremely beautiful though, and he had never had a victim who looked like a woman he would consider dating. Maybe in some odd twist of fate, that's what this was; a blind, or more like _deaf_ , date.

Sneaking into her unlocked living him as she sat casually on her couch playing with her laptop, he tapped his knife against his vest zipper only to once again be unacknowledged. She received a video call and that's when he noted her using sign language quietly. He listened to the caller who spoke as she signed giving Jack all the information he needed and more on this sacred deer he had stumbled across. She was deaf, and alone. He learned her name was Maddie. She wrote notes on glass pane windows to him with red lipstick, pleading she didn't see him and her imaginary lie of a boyfriend would be home soon. There was no bargaining though, he was going to toy with her. Ready or not, here he comes.

She was the only one he ever spoke to or showed his face, while she was also the only one who fought back as hard. He never figured he would have ended up as badly hurt as he did and disarmed.

 _"Yanno, I think you're holding out on me.... I think if I hit the right spot, I can make you scream."_ For a brief moment the thought of raping her just to see how she would react crossed his mind till she turned around and stabbed him in the knee. The final showdown was full of rage, the games were done and this was it. Blinded and deafened by a shrill smoke alarm he still managed to strangle her until she administered the final blow by stabbing him in the neck. Losing consciousness was a blessing in disguise as she took her phone and called the police and made her way outside, leaving him enough time to rise and escape through the bathroom window.

He knew it was luck he made it to his car and was able to drive home. A five hour drive with blood loss and multiple injuries was only possible due to adrenaline and for the first time in his life, fear.... Near the end, it wasn't fun anymore and he was hurt, infuriated and exhausted. He was too cocky and made a huge mistake he thought wasn't possible, particularly from an invalid. But, she won for the most part.

He had thought ahead many years ago and kept his deer tattoo hidden at work. He kept a clean record back home, but dared not go to the doctor for his injuries. Instead, out of all the trophies he had collected from his victims, he also stole money and medications. A well kept nest egg of antibiotics and painkillers with some basic astringent to keep the wounds clean did the trick just fine. His buzz cut had long grown out since then, which he hated but it was better to be unrecognizable then comfortable at this point. Maddie apparently gave such a brief description of how he looked it was almost offensive. Still though, no one suspected a lonesome Game warden was responsible for 13 individual murders scattered across state lines with no clear pattern, except they were all women who lived alone. 

Stopping with Maddie, their rendezvous was incomplete. In his spare time since then, he worked on learning sign language from an online class room and surprisingly enjoyed it and had gotten rather proficient, even catching on to the grammar and learning about Deaf culture. Subconsciously learning to sign was his way of taking a trophy from her.Then, one day, almost four months after the attack, he saw the best sellers collection at a small grocery store and immediately recognized her. _Unwelcome Visitor_ , by Maddie Young. Reading wasn't something he did often but he had a gut feeling he needed to see what was on this paperback's pages, and he was right. She had literally been cashing in on what he did to her and he didn't know whether to feel almost proud or livid, still, it was icing on the vendetta cake. The book was burned in a fire pit lit by gasoline and a cheap, menthol cigarette when he was done with it.

_"I'll find you. And when I do, I will finish the job. I’ll hit the right spot. I’ll get a scream out of you.... No more holding out.”_


	2. Mistake

"It's wonderful to have you Maddie!" said the talk show host named Lauren Dern, her dark brown cheeks round with a grin. A gaunt, young translator named Clair who had worked for Maddie for a few years now signed between them respectfully. "It's great to be here, I'm a fan of the show" Maddie gingerly signed back as Clair spoke it into english words. Now, directed to the audience through a stiff camera lense, "We are here to talk about her tantalizing new thriller, Unwelcome visitor, which has quickly risen to best seller. Maddie, honey, are you _ok_? That book gave me _chills!_ " Lauren said with a laugh as everyone chuckled with her. _No, I'm not ok,_ Maddie thought in secret but made sure to keep concentrating on being amiable.

"As you probably know, my neighbors John and Sarah were murdered and that's what inspired the book. I was heartbroken with grief, being we were so close. I'm very lucky the person who did it never came to my house, but that was always in the back of my mind, what I would have done... So, I put all those feelings into this novel." Maddie signed as Clair spoke, always playing the bridge between the deaf and hearing. For the most part it was a pleasant interview and easy money, good publicity would help with sales. Maybe it would even bag a movie deal. She had checked out part way through, when details from the book were being asked about, the character of the unknown Man and how she thought up such a fantastic story of triumph. Lauren was a genuinely kind person just doing her job but had no idea she was making Maddie go back to that night. Maddie reminded herself she agreed to this, she could have easily said no, and that when it was done it was over and she would be a little richer for it. Anyways, Lauren Dern has great connections.

Still, the small paranoid voice in the back of her mind argued with her _"What the FUCK are you doing?! What if he sees you?"_ she said back to herself "It's been a year and some change, I'm not hiding anymore. I can't live my life under a rock, and if I do, then _he wins._ I'm going to live. If he sees me? Fuck him. _See me."_ Clair, the translator, also had no idea the true originals of Unwelcome Visitor. She did notice a change in Maddie, seeming much more flighty and guarded since their past correspondents, but that could be explained by being more aware of stranger danger which was understandable.

Clair and Maddie treated themselves to a greek lunch when the interview finished, chatting (signing) casually about life and things of no real importance. Clair was a fluent signer who grew up with two completely deaf parents, so this was natural for her. Clair had a great working relationship with Maddie and made it possible for her to navigate the hearing world easier, only wishing it was the other way around. Why can't the hearing world be more accommodating to the hearing empaired? Being a minority means being forgotten, you have to make do with what you are given.

Losing her hearing and speech as a preteen made Maddie recoil into her own mind, where her entire thought process changed and she picked up writing. Her family was supportive and over all just happy she lived without losing a limb or better yet, her nose or lips. Meningitis is much more a killer then the Man ever was. The entire family all learned how to sign with her so they could communicate and she wouldn't feel so excluded. Max, Maddie's sister, has always been her best friend, fondly nicknaming her Squish. Looking back, Max even saw the Man rustling in the background during a video call. If she had listened to her and not blown it off as her cat maybe she would still be in that lovely cottage she was so proud to own. Regardless, Maddie was fortunate to have people so considerate of her. Becoming deaf and mute certainly wasn't a choice.

Clair drops Maddie off in front of her house, looming with it's huge fence. Wishing her fair well with hugs and smiles, Maddie waves as she makes her way into the property. Claire's car grows smaller in the distance as she enters her door, carefully locking it and looking back just to make sure she is alone. A sigh as her purse and keys fall on the hall table. _"Today was a mistake"_ She hears in her mind. "I need to make an alias. I know I need to. But... A part of me also knows I'm going to run into him again no matter what I do. I just know..." She makes her way to her bedroom, changing into comfortable clothes and removing the makeup clogging her pores. She has been living as a bleach blonde for the past year, her only half attempt as being less recognizable. Her phone vibrates and she sees it's Max. Answering the facetime call is a nice break from thought to see her sister's bright face.

" _Squish!_ I saw you on TV! How was it?" Max signs and lips. "It was.... Good but uncomfortable. I kinda regret it, to be honest." Max frowns "... Do you.... Do you think he will see it?" Damn, she really has to go there so quick, doesn't she? "I know it's a possibility, but I seriously doubt he survived his injuries in those woods. I just want to live my life now. I don't want to give up anything else." Maddie couldn't be more honest and yet lying at the same time. Max looks more serious "They never found his body though. We just want you safe and don't want to think of the possibility of losing you again." Maddie made the solid decision to stay far away from her family so if he returns, her family wouldn't be in any danger. He saw Max on the call, Maddie didn't want to take a chance. Her sister's concern is touching though.

"Let's be positive" Maddie signs as she changes the subject "My hair is still bleached, so I'm going to dye it blue tonight." The women giggle and sign about past hair colors during teenage rebellion, lighting the mood. Deep down, they both know it's a way to change her appearance after being on T.V. They eventually say goodbyes and I love you parting ways for the evening. Three little Manic Panic tubs of blue hair paint are taken out from under the bathroom sink along with a pair of gloves. Strand by strand, blue is lathered generously into pale pieces of hair, making a mess but also making her feel young again. Making her feel a little safer again, too. The night passes calmly with a microwave dinner and a glass of wine, a shower followed by a quick blow dry. The aqua marine is more fitting then she thought.

She lays in bed, the peaceful darkness enveloping the room as her chest rises and falls with each breath. Suddenly, she feels a shift of weight in her mattress, but before she can move, hands are gripping around her neck. Her eyes flash open to see Him, on top of her, back to that position of him straddling her firmly squeezing her throat so tight her head might pop off. _"You fucking cunt"_ his mouth lips in horrifying silence. The crossbow is too far under the bed and there's no knife. No corkscrew this time. His eyes are still red from the wasp spray she used to blind him all that time ago somehow, he still smells like forest and bug repellent. Did she travel in time?

She pops up sweating and heaving . Dazed, realizing she has suffered another night terror. Her bedroom door is still closed and locked, the windows are in one piece and she is alone aside from her cat curled at her feet. She cups her face as she sobs, shaking.

_"today was a mistake."_

\-------------------------------------

A beer bottle explodes with the impact of a bolt crashing into it. A long drag from a cigarette as he looks up at the sky. "If only my judgement was as good as my aim." He grabs another old empty bottle and puts it on top of a crate about ten feet away and the cycle of shattered glass continues. A weekend like this would have been spent in Rhode Island, following someone home getting a late night dinner at Denny's or a sorority girl stumbling drunk. Or, it would have been spent going to a bar with a pretty woman he met on Tinder for a hookup. Both would have been fun. Times have changed though, Now he will just practice and hunt some. With mosquitoes nipping his bare shoulders, he decides it's time to go back inside.

The screen door shuts behind him as the floor creaks under his bear feet. Stopping suddenly, Jack touches his face, noting how long his beard is now along with the hair on his head. The thought crosses him, maybe it's time to go back to the way he used to look but he shakes it off and makes his way to the opening of his bedroom, where a pull up bar hangs. 50 pull ups, 50 push ups and 50 sit ups later, he realizes he's feeling bored. He sits on the ground for a minute, graveling in how much he hates the normalcy of how this feels. This doesn't feel like him, maybe Jack, but not him. This was too human. He stands and crosses to his fridge, which is mostly barren except for a few Coors lights, bacon, bread, cheese, and deer meat he will cook tomorrow. Swiping a beer, he goes to sit on his sofa and turns the television on with the remote, his crossbow lazily placed on the arm rest. He flips through channels as he nurses the yeasty alcohol, feeling numb. _jerking off would be more fun than this._

Annoyed, he stops just in time on the Lauren Dern show, mainly because he was getting tired of carelessly surfing through celebrities and idiocracy. He wasn't really going to watch it anyway. A good swig of Coors cools his throat and stains his beard, as a blonde haired woman in a lavender sundress walks on the stage with a wispy brunette following like a shadow. His attention perks, as the blonde woman looks very familiar, even the way she moves. Jack freezes, his heart thumping in his chest like a rabbits foot. _"You're fucking kidding me."_

It's Maddie. He won't move, stunned. He watches as she signs with her translator speaking for her between two different planes of existence. He listens intently to her inspiration behind the book, which he read front to back. Some bullshit about being inspired through the murder of her neighbors, hiding the fact she went through what happened in it's pages. Might as well have been reading her diary. He sees her swallow back sadness on the television that no one else notices.

"You're scared thinking of me aren't you? Yet you're still ignoring me, like when I was right behind you with a knife or when I was tapping on your window, or better yet, when you let your poor neighbor die...." He feels his face getting red. The smell of her sweat and vanilla perfume mixed with blood wafts into his nostrils from dormant memories. " Doing all this? It's not so easy, is it? Living this lie....? Ignoring me?" He is talking to her like he was when she was reading his lips through the glass.

In a surge of pure hate and arousal, he picks up his crossbow, quickly loads it with his foot and shoots the television before realizing what he just did. Sparks and smoke erupt from the glass box of fools. He is sweating, breathing heavy. He lays down the bow as if it's a babe, tender with care as he stands and promptly walks into his bathroom. digging wildly under a pile of old clothes by a ceramic tub finding his old electric buzzer, he looks coldly at himself as he begins to shave away all the hair of Jack, concealing _The Man_. He's shirtless with strands of hair raining all around him. before he can realize it he suddenly feels alive again. Looking back at him is the man he was that day, shaved back down, stubble still lining his jaw. More tattoos, more battle scars.

A small sigh and a slight smirk. He walks back out into the living room making sure the television hasn't caught on fire as he sits back down to look at the marks on his crossbow. Only 13. what a shame. He lights a cigarette while sitting back breathing in.

_"Oh Maddie...... That was a mistake."_


	3. Moving on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When The Man makes his presence known, Maddie realizes moving on won't be so easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I set this in Alabama because that's where Hush was filmed. Montgomery is the capital and Heflin is a real city. Also, the idea for the Halloween party is from an event that actually goes in my home town. 
> 
> I should have brought this up earlier, but I got the idea for The Man/Jack's backstory from an interview with Mike Flanagan where him and Kate explain that John Gallagher actually made up a canon and rather tragic story for him, then in a later interview a hint was dropped of being abused by his father. I chose the name Jack because of Jack the Ripper and wanted to stay away from the name John being it's been used a lot for him and in the movie. Anyways Jack is simple and has a rather dark history to it in the murder world.

Halloween is exactly a month away, with the smell of pumpkin spice and giddy goth girls making trips to target for cheaply made, macabre decorations. Only a week since the televised interview and everything has been uneventful, which really isn't surprisingly but still a small celebration. Thinking with a coffee warming her hands, Maddie wondered what she should do when the holiday arrived; Do I dare open the gate letting children come get candy from me? Should I put a little bucket outside on the sidewalk with a note instructed to _"please share"_? I could dress up as a mermaid, it would be cute. Would her not being able to talk scare the children off? The storm of overthinking was one of the many reasons she originally opted for a solitary life, including that she wasn't really a people person at heart.

Checking her email as she always does, she sees a reply from her editor, Elizabeth. It had been awhile and Sweetwater only had two chapters left before it was done, and Maddie and Elizabeth had been discussing going ahead and finishing it. An impatient sip from the mug burns her tongue making her flinch as she opens the email.

_"Hey! Good morning and YES this is a perfect time to finish!! Could you maybe have it done for Halloween? It wouldn't be able to be published by then but maybe it would be a good omen, and I would love to read something spooky for fall ;) Replying on my phone btw, excuse grammar. Ride your publicity while you have it. You could be the new Stephen King at this point."_

Maddie smiles, a bit flattered. Moving on and continuing where she left off before the ordeal is deserved, and aside from some bad dreams, he really does seem to be gone. Without control, her imagination conjures a picture of kids in costumes with The Man, masked, waving at her from afar. Staring into blankness, yelling at herself mentally "No, Stop. Please just stop." She reasons desperately, while wiping her face in frustration and shaking her head. _Too many endings, and their all the same...._

That was the exact reason she was having a hard time finishing Sweetwater in the first place. Slamming her hands on the table, she decides to kill the main character, Erin, if she is going to start up this cursed project again. Everyone will hate it, but it will spark discussion and be a dead end to the book series with an unexpected twist. Art is strange in the fact you don't know who you are really trying to please with it, yourself or everyone else. When it becomes your career though, it can feel less like an outlet and more like a redundant chore. She automatically thinks of the protagonist from the book _Misery_ by Stephen king. _"I can relate, buddy..."_

Turning off her phone with her laptop already open, she begins to chop away word after word, devoting the late morning to getting closer to a concrete conclusion. Her ex, Craig, has still been trying to contact her, and she is ashamed to admit she does think of him from time to time when the nights are lonely and she's yearning for touch. He wouldn't understand how she's changed though, he wouldn't like this new Maddie. Picking up Sweetwater is a walk down memory lane being she started it after they had broken up to cope with heart break and being cheated on. It felt more personal then any other split she had, being Craig is also deaf and has been all his life. Killing Erin would be killing the past, possibly. Another way to summon wants and desires reality couldn't grant.

"I should try to date again. Yanno, Maddie... What do you think would happen? Getting free dinner and a kiss won't hurt you. You're getting older" Her inner self says. She flips the laptop closed ignoring herself before quickly thinking "bad idea." She heats up left over Chinese, eating watching television with subtitles while practicing moving her still very stiff right pinky. Stations change to the news casually, not thinking anything of it.

"LAST NIGHT, GRIZZLY MURDER IN MONTGOMERY." says the subtitles brightly. Maddie stops, blinking fast with butterflies abruptly fluttering in her stomach. The reporter opens her mouth as words begin to peel across the television again. "THREE WOMEN ON A CAMPING TRIP WERE STABBED TO DEATH AND DUMPED IN A RIVER. FOWL PLAY IS SUSPECTED. ONE OF THE WOMEN HAD THE WORDS "CAN U READ MY LIPS?" WHILE ANOTHER HAD "DO IT COWARD" CARVED INTO THEIR BACKS WITH WHAT IS SUSPECTED TO BE A HUNTING KNIFE. NO DNA WAS FOUND AND THE SUSPECT IS STILL AT LARGE."

She turns the television off with a shaking thumb. Luke warm chow mien falls to the ground wastefully. Montgomery is roughly two hours from where she lives in Heflin and only an hour from her old house. Running to each window making sure they are locked and the blinds are closed before going to the doors. Sweat water falls down her brow as she flies upstairs to her bedroom. She appears to herself in almost a hallucination as she plants on her bed "It's him. That was a message. I told you it was a bad idea to go on television. I told you to go out of state."

"He can't find where I live though..."

_"You don't know that..."_

"I don't even have a Facebook."

_"He is going to keep killing till he finds you."_

"...Or he is caught? Their's no way he can just keep getting away with this."

_"He did 13 times and he is now!"_

"Those women died because of you..."

_"...Oh.... oh no... I'm not going through that shit again."_

"People will die till you finish what he started."

If what she had earlier was a storm of overthinking, then this was a hurricane with wind gusts of inner monologues swirling, tearing apart her sanity like shingles on an old roof. The voices in her mind become intermingled, unclear and loud. It's nothing but yelling. Her hand crashes into her cheek to make it stop. Luckily, it works as she pulls herself together. Three innocent women are dead now, making 13 into 16. A snapshot of him marking his crossbow and taking their jewelry as prizes appears disturbingly in the depths of her head. She appears again in front of herself with stern eyes.

"We can draw him out. Get the police here and trap him."

_"Then I become the coward?"_

"... What the fuck? This guy is a serial killer, who gives a shit about pride or courage, take him down and be done with it!"

_"No."_

"Oh my GOD, Maddie..."

_"I need my laptop."_

The stairs are slippery under her feet as she darts back to her kitchen table where her Macbook waits. Flipping it open, not even realizing tears are flowing down her cheecks in a steady stream. Googling "Montgomery Halloween parties" she finds a fairly large event going on in a Hilton hotel. A themed vampire masquerade ball sounds like a fitting last event to wear something that makes her feel dazzling. Cerulean hair would be complimentary to a tangerine or orange-tan colored gown. Maybe a Fairy. Or a fawn.

"Maddie please-"

_"I'll have Sweetwater finished."_

"Maddie PLEASE-"

_"We will go to lunch with Max and mom and dad."_

"MADDIE PLEASE-"

_"I'll practice with my crossbow."_

A personal Facebook hadn't been an option, but she does have a Facebook business page for her writing. Vague reminders and updates of her new projects and publications were all you could find of her on any online source and this was no different. Logging in, her hands begin to quiver again, unsure yet sure of what she wants to do. On another tab she begins to put in her credit card information purchasing a ticket for what would most likely be her last party. Minutes pass, frozen in limbo. The PURCHASE button is punched. Now, to the Facebook.

**"I will be making an appearance at the Montgomery Hilton Masquerade Ball on Halloween, if anyone wants to meet me. The catch is, you have to find me. I'll be alone, so come be my date!"**

\--------------------------------------------------------

It's nine at night at a chilly Montgomery camping grounds. Three women in their thirties huddle with blankets around a campfire, drinking hot cocoa spiked with whip cream flavored vodka. Laughs fill the cool air as they talk about exes, shitty jobs and future prospectives with red noses while the chocolaty alcohol slowly warms their hemoglobin. Oblivious to them, they are being hunted and have been since sundown.

Tonight has been long awaited by Jack. Strategically choosing a place close to where him and Maddie squared off would hopefully get the message to her wherever she was that he was ready and looking for her. Rhode Island was next on his list but this is different and has a deeper purpose. She made her presence known through the television, therefore he will do they same. Imitation is the purest form of flattery.

New hunting attire with a simple dark brown camo coat, new leather gloves and boots. The mask beany combo are the same as that night though, for good luck. No cat and mouse or overexertion of energy for this evenings entertainment. _Shoot them all dead, and get it done._ Regardless of if fast or slow paced, it had been so long since he hunted people, and it felt damn good to be back behind the bow watching and waiting. He tenses as one of the woman stands.

"Hey Cindy? I'm gonna go pee really quick. Can you come with me?" She slurs a bit. Her short haired friend looks up and replies "Yeah, of course." They both look at the third member of their party and tell her they will be right back as they turn into the trees. I'll shoot her first, he thinks. He waits till he can hear the crunching of leaves beneath their feet stop and distant chatter before moving closer. She's looking at her phone without a care in the world, almost purposely still. He dips to his knees and aims at the base of her head where her skull meets her spine. Breathe in, breathe out.

He takes a shot as the bolt rushes through the frigid breeze, striking her upper nape as she gasps and falls forward. He runs to her, seeing she died on impact. Easy enough, now for Cindy and friend. Taking her phone from her still warm hands for safe measure, he knows he has to do this without making a sound as he drags her body off into the black woods. Feet patter again towards the campsite as he waits with the body of honorable 14.

"...Where's Mandy?"

"...Uhm.... Mandy?" They look in her tent to see it's empty before spotting a thin trail of blood leading from the lawn chair to the forest. "Oh my f _ucking god_!! Oh _Fuck_! Mandy! what if a bear got h-" A bolt pins her forehead before she can finish her sentence. In advance of the final member of the trio screaming, his knife is already imbedded in her throat, drawing back before smacking it in her temple for the final blow. Quick, easy, clean and fun, His body count has bumped up to 16. Two of the victims have their shirts torn open, where jagged peaks of sliced flesh deform into cryptic bulletins, bloody letters of skin blemishing once living, smooth backs. Corpses and belongings are dumped into the Alabama River as he decides against keeping trophies, the messages their carcasses hold are trophies in itself.

_"She'll get the memo"._

Laying in bed he remembers that night perfectly as two days had passed in a fever dream of elation. Clad in nothing but grey boxer briefs, he looks at his broken screened iPhone getting ready to try to sleep, key word being _try_. He googles _Maddie Young Author_ coming to the options of her website and Facebook book page. The latter is chosen from instinctual with a press of his index finger.

**"I will be making an appearance at the Montgomery Hilton Masquerade Ball on Halloween, if anyone wants to meet me. The catch is, you have to find me. I'll be alone so come be my date!"**

A wide smile opens across his face, tickled by her boldness.

"Oh wow... Drawing me out?" He figures the police with be waiting, then rereads the **_I'll be alone so be my date_ **part. It's a chance he is more then willing to take at this point. Jack looks to his closet remembering the suit he wore to his fathers funeral but decides against it, being it's too mundane. The Hilton website is glaringly inviting, advertising the soiree on the front page begging for a ticket to be acquired. Tasteless clip arts of half naked vampire women in masks make him cringe.

"Ok. I'll be your date, and see you there." He whispers. This isn't his cup of tea, but denying Maddie would be in poor taste.


	4. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations are made from both ends before Halloween. A short chapter before shit hits the fan.

The month of October was ticking by fast as uneasy apprehension was starting to make her anxious. She didn't regretted her decision, but their was an unspoken agreement between them when they both walked that they would meet again eventually. She made sure to spend time with her family and worked hard at ending _Sweetwater,_ finally finishing it 3 days shy of Halloween, wondering if killing the main character was the right thing to do being her current predicament. Procrastinating picking a costume, today felt right to make a choice with grey forecast skies reflecting her mood.

An old dress from when Craig and her were seeing each other hides in the far corner of the closet, tags still on, waiting to be worn. It would have to wait longer, being the plan had changed from going out with a bang to being maneuverable. "I need pants, regular shoes. I need to be able to run." Looking through her dresser, she finds a brown tank top and some high wasted cuffed shorts. Put on black black tights and a pair of converse, call it a day. Paint her face like a deer with an antler head piece from the party store, and bingo. You have a last minute Maddie deer. 72 hours till take off and nothing feels ready, not even her now completed third novel.

Being deaf makes you visual even when you're latent deaf. Her aim wasn't terrible, just getting the hang of cocking the crossbow was the challenging part, always burning her palms. Practicing with it had been a precaution for if the battle comes home but that likely won't happen. A long distance weapon wasn't what her first instinct was telling her to bring. In her car, she loaded an illuminum baseball bat, a foghorn, and pepper spray was already in her purse.

Regardless of him being a killer, the memory of The Man bleeding and being beatable brings solace. For the first time, she wondered about why he does what he does. Like school yard bullies and unfair office bosses with big bellies, their was probably something inside him that compelled The Man to murder. He wasn't a particularly large bodied person, recalling the trouble he had taking down John, one of the neighbors that died in the woods who was roughly 6'3''. Was The Man really a coward or just someone who knows how to pick his battles? Women were regularly the targets for homicide, but if maybe he was a little bigger, a little stronger, would he kill men? Has he killed men? Did someone hurt him when he was a child, and if so, _who?_

Meningitis made her who she is today, so whatever afflicted The Man made him the legend he is now. That's something they have in common, from one legend to another.

"Are you really humanizing this guy? This isn't one of your book characters."

_"Still though, knowing what makes him tick might be how I can get to him."_

The night before, she wrote a draft for a final goodbye email to Craig, knowing he should hear from her one last time to air everything out between them before she possibly goes missing or is found dead. No loose ends.

_"Craig,_   
_I just wanted you to know how wonderful our relationship was. You were my closest friend and muse, not just a lover. Our breakup devastated me, but what broke me the most was the affair I caught you having with your ex. I shouldn't have taken it so personally though, uprooting everything and running off alone into the forest to become the wicked witch of the woods. I want you to know how sorry I am for being such a bitch about it. I want you to know how sorry I am for blocking you out of my life like you were nothing._   
_I need you to understand that the story of what happened to me out there isn't as black and white as it seems. Things are far more complicated then my novel could ever shine light on. John and Sarah weren't the only ones who died, a part of me died that night, too. I wish I could go more into it and tell you the truth but I can't. Be safe. I hope you meet someone who can handle her emotions better then me, who likes to go out to parties, who has more in common with you then I ever did._   
_Live your life happily. Do it for me._   
_With love, Maddie."_

She wrote the first thing that came to her mind, deciding to keep it close to her true feelings. Emailing it to him with an exhale, she feels some of the weight on her shoulders being lifted. At this point she heard through the grapevine Craig had started to date again. The email didn't feel like she was crossing a boundary with a moving on ex, but more like a final goodbye to someone she wronged.  
  
Clair, her translator, saw the Facebook post about the party and thought it was strange. She had asked Maddie if she wanted her to come, but she declined. Clair assumed she wanted to be independent. The police had an inkling the Montgomery triple homicide might have something to do with the murder of John and Sarah but didn't have enough evidence to link the two cases. Anyone who had gotten an RSVP after buying a ticket to the party did get an alert that no weapons would be allowed and police would be present, most likely because of the cold case. With that in mind, Maddie isn't sure if he will even decide to chance coming, or if he saw her post. Out of all the many endings she had for Halloween, one was that absolutely nothing would happen.

"What if he comes and does..... nothing? He's just there in this big award party and can't really do anything. That's kinda funny. He'll ask you to dance and step on your toes."

 _"Shut the fuck up_." She's laughing at herself. This thriller felt like a black comedy for just a second.

Silent conversations in her mind plagued most of her personal time. It had been that way since the world had hushed. Anyone who could hear would think she's insane. She had hearing at one point in her life, so the voice in her head was a warped version of the memory of her mothers. Other deaf people say they think in signs and images and in ways they can't really explain, just that they know what they are thinking. The memory of music flickers like a distant star, glittery but now alien. The sounds of laughing, the sighs and moans of pleasures during intimacy she never had the chance to perceive. 

Unlike the hearing though, everything she touches has life she can sense. Maddie feels to listen. Pounding of heart beats and the impact of footsteps, moist wind kissing her flesh telling her the weather before thunder can rumble. Her eyes now binoculars of insight to her surroundings, absorbing everything with attention to detail. Her disability sharpened her other senses to compensate and it had saved her life.

Maddie lays in bed cuddling her fluffy cat, fondly named Bitch because of her sassy attitude. The stress of the inevitable dissipates with every stroke of Bitch's creamy fur. She's gone on plenty of dates before, but none have required this much preparation and thought.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Being a game warden is like being a deputy for the woods. lately, things have been quiet aside from people trying to illegally hunt turkeys. He is taking a two week vacation starting the day after Halloween, in case of injury and the unexpected, and nothing really is expected. Jack has no idea of what he will be capable of doing that night. Maybe she won't even be there.

Loading up into his jeep to head home for the night, He drives slowly looking around sight seeing, wondering if this will be one of his last drives home. This forest was his confidant, a family when he didn't have one. There was no human he felt a connection with like this place. "What If I kidnap her and bring her here to get it over with... She did live by herself in the woods when I found her. Too bad I chased her out, she seemed pretty cozy" he thinks out loud.

Once back at the cabin and comfortable, he changes before looking through his closet for an outfit choice. There's no worry or fear, Jack's excited to see her and what she will do. Their game of cat-and-mouse turned to cat-on-cat, and for that he has respect for her he did no one else. Swallowing, the lump of scar tissue in his wind pipe still makes him cough, reminding him he won't ever use a wine key again.   
"Eye protection maybe?... No, that would look too stupid, but pack it anyway..." Wasp repellint is a great substitute for pepper spray. He pulls out his mask, it's empty eye's staring back up at him. A basic grey t shirt with his fathers leather bomber coat and jeans. Jack pauses, gliding his fingers over the coat, hearing fathers voice yelling profanity. The smell of it's leather is familiar from when it was worn on cold winter evenings.

_"Jack! you lazy piece of shit! Do the god damn dishes before I bash your fucking brains in!!"_

He blinks, trying to evade the flashback. 

_Do them yourself, you alcoholic son of bitch_.

Not really a costume, but a disguise is flayed out across his dresser. Something easy to move in while still having his flavor. Something he won't miss if it gets ruined. A backpack limply drops on the bed, his arsenal being put together; A crossbow with bolts would be kept separate under the drivers side seat while a backpack will have paintball goggles, one sharpened hunting knife, duct tape, a bottle of Oxycodone, rope, a flashlight, a small first aid kit, sound canceling ear muffs and a hatchet.

"I'm either going to maim, kill, or keep her."


	5. A Deaf Date with Destiny part 1: Maddie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween is finally here, with Maddie and The Man counting their blessings to finally continue a chapter that was never finished.  
> This chapter will be split into two parts from Maddie's and the Man's POV being it was getting really long, instead of its usual format.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shits getting real! Forgive the format, it was getting lengthy so I made it a double part.  
> Not to mention my internet wasn't working so I was only able to edit it so much.
> 
> Remember Maddie is deaf and talks to herself in full conversations a lot, and that will be present for most of the chapter till we break off to The Man/Jack.
> 
> PAY ATTENTION TO ALL THE QUOTES FROM THE MOVIE. They are everywhere here to add to the ambiance.

  
  


Before pulling the black tights over her knees, she brushes the scar left from when an arrow flew into her femur. The blood loss was significant, never forgetting the burdensome lightheadedness. As she continues getting dressed, she prays that it doesn't happen again but a higher power itself can't promise anything. A pallet of face paint rests on the sink as she paints a simple deer face pattern over her nose and eyes, imitating a spotted doe. Cute war paint.

Everything feels still as she walks through the house, almost saying goodbye to its protection. Her palm drags across the walls as Bitch struts in front of her.  _ She knows.  _ Bending down, Bitch rubs against her leg leaving wispy hairs behind. "I love you, girl. Sorry I have to go. Can't have him trying to nail you to the door again, yanno? Or let anyone else die...". A Large plastic cauldron is left outside the fence filled with candy. Children in costumes gallop all around for treats and mischief, concerned parents scatter the neighborhood.

Maddie persuades herself not to cry so she doesn't ruin her makeup, yet one lone tear hits the hardwood floor. Opening the back patio door, Bitch walks out before looking back one last time with emerald eyes before leaving into the darkness. A speechless farewell between a feline and one brave yet terrified woman. Shoes are laced, lights are turned off and she goes to her car. A silver aluminum baseball bat sits in the passenger seat, giving her encouragement. Pepper Spray and a foghorn nap hidden in her purse along with a small notepad and pen.

"This is the dumbest thing I have ever done."

_ "Yeah it is, but it's also the noblest." _

A little piece of grit makes a pearl with time, and Maddie shined fluorescent with valiance, bathed in the moonlight. The two hour drive passed as she sped in a trance. Warm childhood memories of harmony and tone held her in its arms with the illusion of inaudible sound. Without a shadow of a doubt, he would be there. Her writer's brain usually made a house of cards of different outcomes and endings. This time though, the house had fallen with one card landing upright reading  _ The Man will be there, beware _ . 

_ I can come in anytime I want, and I can get you anytime I want. But I'm not going to, not until it's time... When you wish you're dead, that's when I'll come inside.... _

_ Do you understand me? _

_ Nod your head if you understand me… _

The quote echoes soundlessly between her ears as the car parks. Lots of vehicles, a promising sign of a big crowd, which is what she needs. people walk inside and she follows, peering around herself when the employee at the door scans the ticket on her cellphone. The fear recedes for a moment as the hall opens into the main hotel lobby, decorated lavishly with high quality Halloween regalia. A black and red chandelier hangs, the walls covered in gothic mirrors and manufactured portraits of vampires and ghouls. Black ceramic vases filled with roses sit on a large banquet table with a fake head in the middle with an apple in its mouth surrounded by finger foods. A corseted bartender wearing fake fangs makes drinks behind a skeleton covered bar.

"This is pretty cool, I should have come to this years ago" She rues herself from living in her own bubble. The vibration of foot steps rumble through her sneakers bewildering her senses. So much to see, to feel, to smell. It's unsettling as it is zestful. Sexy women in Victorian themed lingerie walk around selling shots, reminding her this was an 18+ event. "How the  _ fuck  _ is he going to find me with all this going on, at that my hair is blue..." She wonders.

Someone tapping on her shoulder startles her but she quickly realizes it's just a regular person as she turns to face him. He is mouthing  _ "Want a drink?" _ . Maddie points to her ear and shakes her head mutley saying "I'm deaf". He apologizes and walks away, a surprising stab at her ego. Rolling her eyes she continues to pace and look around, jealous of everyone partying merrily.

Maddie sits at the bar, not feeling any drastic change in atmosphere. At this time she’s trying not to be conspicuous. Playing on her phone trying to preserve strength, she sees Craig has replied. An exhale of woe as she ignores it, wishing him well knowing internally it’s best to let it be a closed ended email. Max has texted her happy Halloween. Maddie gleefully replies telling Max she’s at a really cool party and wishes she was there, being sincere.

Unanticipatedly, a drink is placed in front of her. The smell coming from it tells her it’s a rum and coke. Maddie looks up mouth agape at the bartender who appears very amused. The bartender begins to talk, her mouth unmistakably saying “A guy in a white mask got it for you over there. He’s gone now, but said you’re really cute, said you don’t get out much and met you while hunting down south.” 

The taverner is called away by a customer before Maddie can even try to reply. She revolves her head, looking everywhere but The Man is nowhere. Rising from the bench and standing, she goes to the dance floor sweating bullets. Her eyes can’t move fast enough.

People are bumping into her in the crowd, rowdy and dancing to music she feels. Maddie has been at the Hilton about an hour, continually anxious he will pop up at any second before he gives himself away with a drink that probably wasn’t even top shelf. She thought of going back and drinking it but figured it would make her throw up.

Strobe Lights. Sweat. Motion. Cologne. Perfume. Pulsation. The enthusiasm encompassing her was too distracting. It didn’t matter if you were unable to hear, there was no way fighting getting sucked into the activity. 

Her eyes then meet something recognizable at the other side of the room. A pale white plaster face. She knew he would be here but she's almost trying not to believe it. Her legs become rocks as her face turns hot, nearly choking on her own sudden rapid breathing. Relieved, she realizes it's just some random person in a Jason mask. Worst yet, there's a lot of white masks scattered everywhere, different sizes, different shapes. 

Dizzy and nauseous, she goes to the table of finger foods and picks up a chocolate cupcake. Licking the red icing icing off the top, Maddie is still diligently searching for him. She wishes she could scream to  _ come out  _ if he is here, but vocal paralysis has left her voiceless. A bite of chocolate muddy's her teeth.

Aside from feeling vulnerable and clueless, she also feels excluded, seeing people who aren't disabled talking and laughing. At least there's a lot to look at, but there's even more to look  _ for _ . The hairs on the back of her neck stand as the aura around her shifts.

Her eyes turn, but yet again there's no white mask like his.

"I don't like this at all."

_ "Move out the lobby, keep looking. Remember you're in public. As long as you stay in the crowd he can't do anything." _

"I don't even know where he is. I feel like I'm being watched."

_ "I mean.... You could be being watched by a bunch of drunk horny guys though." _

"Ugh don't remind me...."

"I don't want him to hurt one of the women here. All those young girls selling shots? It's just awful."

_ "If he is here, he is here for you. Don't forget that. You're the one in the most danger. Now is the time to look out for yourself." _

A shiver runs down her spine. Facing the lobby, she begins to walk back a bit towards the courtyard right as she bumps into someone with her whole backside. 

Or someone bumped against her. Twirling on the heels of her Converse, all she can see is a group of men walking away, all in dark clothing. A tiny hint of panic creeps up but it's shoved away as she decides to escape to the ladies room.

A long hall is lined with fake witches, looking like they are laughing at her timidity as she enters the bathroom door nearly knocking a woman out in an angel costume. She locks herself in a stall catching her breath. The weight in her purse shifts as it's brought from her shoulder and put on the tiled ground.

"Pepper Spray, check. Pen and paper, check. Foghorn, check."

_ "Where's the cellphone?" _

"In my pocket."

She stands up right and slides her hand into her front pocket which is empty. The next one is the same. Her hands slide around her back pockets, where she usually keeps it and it's completely gone.

"Fucking shit!! I must have dropped it when I bumped into-"

A dark awareness clouds over her that it could have been him who took her phone. Her palms hold her cheeks and she sits on the ground in front of the toilet.

"I can't go back out there. I can't believe that just happened... I can't believe this is really happening."

_ "Stop panicking and calm down.You can’t just jump to conclusions right now. It could have fallen out. If it was him, you can't just hide in this bathroom all night even if you wanted to. _ "

"I'm so scared."

Maddie wretches without warning and faces the toilet, the cupcake and stomach acid expelling into the bowl. Her body has entered deeply into a fight-or-flight response. Adrenal glands release adrenaline as her palms begin to sweat, muscles tensing and her vision becoming acute. She feels claustrophobic.  _ I got to get the hell out of here. _

The stall door squeaks as it opens to empty sinks. So open and blaringly white, almost like a cell. Her reflection is pale, a shaken look in her dilated pupils looks back at her. The mirror image opens its mouth speaking it's thoughts for her to hear, being the articulation of logic through the flood of hysteria.

_ "I can't run." _

_ "I can't hide." _

_ "...And I can't wait" _

The stillness is daunting, reminding her she has to do something. The party ends at 2am and last she checked, it was past 12:45. What would happen when it ended? Being stabbed to death in the parking lot on the way back to the Volkswagen Passet? It’s too open for that, she thinks.

Maddie patiently walks out of the bathroom looking around the hall. Slowly, she heads to the courtyard seeing lanterns genially glow in the distance. 

“Why my woods, my house, my friends all that time ago? I wish I could have just came here and gotten hammered like everyone else. I wish I was still living in my little bungalow....”

_ “You wouldn’t have even come to this if it wasn’t for him.” _

“Do you think he looks the same? With that stupid-ass buzzcut and week old shave? I bet he covered his tattoo.”

She smiles at the conversation. Making light of all of this seems like a worthy coping mechanism. Aback, a shot girl skirts in front of her waving her hand. She doesn’t try to speak to Maddie, furtively being aware she is deaf somehow. Instead, the girl hands her a shot and a folded napkin before smiling and heading back to the lobby.

Wide eyed, Maddie opens the napkin.

_ I’m here. Happy Halloween :) _

A mild threat wrote in blue ink sloppily. Her composure is held looking back and forth between the two new objects. Her eyes dart to the lobby as the shot and napkin are held white knuckled in front of her.

_ “Take the fucking shot” _

“What?”

_ “Take. The fucking. Shot.” _

“That’s what he wants though right? For me to not be sober?”

_ “Yeah but he is also trying to mess with you by doing something completely commonplace, almost cute. Just take it, you need it more than you think. Keep the napkin just in case of fingerprints.” _

Liquid courage, and it’s free bought from the pockets of a scoundrel. She takes the shot, lemony tarteness concealing sharp liquor as it washes down her esophagus. The napkin is tucked into her pocket before heading back to the lobby audaciously. 

_ “Find out how much time we have left.” _

She looks to a clock right above the bar saying 1:30, grimacing at the last half hour left of safety in numbers. It becomes apparent he has been probably trying to buy time all the along, and now he has her phone which makes things even worse. The crowd has dwindled down a bit and is not quite as packed.

She feels eyes on her again.

A warm breath blows on the nap of her neck, rustling her hair.

She turns and only about two feet away is The Man. Unconcealed. Just right there, mask on his face. Outfit a little different but the mask and hat are the same. Same neck tattoo yet there’s more this time. He waves at her with her phone in his hand like nothing is going on.  _ The Nerve. _

He doesn’t try to interact with her other than that and turns to disappear back into what is left of the patrons. It’s clear he is toying with her again, it’s subtle but effective. When her leg had the arrow in it she couldn't run. Maddie begins to think; How much of a danger is he even now? What is the  _ point _ of all this? Either he ends up in police custody somehow or dead for this to be of any meaning. If he leaves here without her, he will find some other innocent women to drag off and murder. Guilt washes over her at the thought.

_ "We are running out of time." _

Flexing her shoulders, she heads towards the door. She takes the antlers off and drops them on the ground defiantly getting ready for what is bound to be a very long night. Fear dissipates remembering stabbing him in the leg when he was perched in her tub.

_ "Do it, Coward.” _


	6. A Deaf Date with Destiny part 2. The Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, to The Man's/Jack's experience.  
> He is just so damn normal when not killing people, yanno?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a lot of fun on this part, but just be warned after this the next 3 chapters get really, REALLY fucking dark.
> 
> Warnings for drugs and vague talk of sexual abuse.

A five hour drive from Georgia to Alabama awaits. Already dressed with supplies in the car and his gas tank full, Jack sips a late afternoon cup of black coffee to prepare himself for the road. His mind is blank and starting to enter into the predatory psychosis that takes over when ever going hunting. Tonight would be different, in a city surrounded by pedestrians and possible law enforcement. At that, a Halloween party in a place he already killed in. Going back to a ping on his map was a cardinal rule that was being broken.

He rinses the cup in the kitchen sink before locking up and leaving. Hands clenching the steering wheel, her pulse is suddenly thumping under his fingers "Oh Jesus that goddamn wine key....". A hammer. A car alarm. A flashlight. A kitchen knife. A wine key. Bug spray. A fire alarm. His own crossbow. Teeth. She knew how to use anything around her to survive and Jack wants the control he lost that night back. There was nothing to enjoy even in a game if he didn't have some sense of control over it. His tick was power, and it's something he is self aware of.

All of that shit tore his body up and took a lengthy recovery, too, but that's a different story. A casual stop for gas and a Red Bull is warranted as he spots teenagers illegally buying Four Lokos. One of the teenagers, a smaller red headed girl looking no older than 15, has a look on her face the far opposite of high spirits. Jack and her share bleak eye contact with one another as Jack nods and the girl does the same. The other adolescents call her to get into the car. Another psycho in the making.  _ God-speed, junior. _

He needs to get Maddie alone somehow, but achieving that is going to depend on the flow of circumstance. The highway unwinds while music mildly plays over the radio. He relaxes with his window down, enjoying a cigarette as time goes by bringing him ever closer mile by mile. The image of watching her walk around her house while he took pictures on her phone floats in his mind. Her doe eyes staring up from behind glass, stilly imploring to be spared. A mixture of avarice and sadism leaves him half massed and lustful, for blood and flesh combined.

"I really can get you anytime I want, but then wasn't time. Now, it's time. I won't make that mistake again."

Arriving in Montgomery finally, he slows down on trick or treater filled streets. The smell of sugar all around and kids waving. He waves back, that odd sensation of normalcy creeping up again. Before he can put his mask on, another has come over his face, the one of being human. The one he puts on when he goes to the giffy store to pick up a jug of milk or when he helps hunters with flat tires in his forest. A monotone voice on his GPS leads him to the crowded Hilton.

People. Lots of people. Everywhere, all around. Costumed, drunk, and happy. _ Happy. _ How lucky they are to be so prodigal and pleased about it. He throws the black jeep into park. The crossbow is hidden under the front seat and the backpack had been riding shotgun loyally. A deep sigh as he reaches for the mask, placing it over his face followed by the black beany. Jack leaves while The Man possessed even though they are one in the same.

A mental note is taken on the location he is at and how he can work with it. The Hilton is located off I-85 North in Alabama, with a patch of thick woods across the road. 

He walks to the main opening with his cellphone in hand as the doorman scans it. "Have a great night, sir. Love the mask." The Man nods as he progresses into the sea of bodys. Party music plays and small talk is everywhere. A woman in black lace underwear steps towards him, cleavage bouncing with each step distracting his view. "Hi! Super spooky mask! Would you like to buy a shot?" She asks smiling with fake fangs showing. "Yeah, sure." He finds a ten in his pocket and tells her to keep the change as he takes the small vial from her hand. Slipping the mask up he guzzles it down quickly, the sting of Fireball burning his throat.

It's not enough to get him drunk of course but it still warms him, bringing the energy of the festivities into his chest. He searches, seeing the work that must have gone into putting this together. If he really was a regular guy this would be a great time, and he has forgotten how infectious liveliness can be. Still, he is looking for her. Music thumping in his ears, he scans the room in its entirety.

Women clad in scanty costumes, men trying to flirt with them. There's some same sex couples staying to themselves. Lights strobe and torso's shake, dancing to the rhythm of whatever is playing. Party goers with drinks. Hands in his coat pockets, he walks dodging whoever ends up in front of him. He blends in well thanks to his slight frame which is easily misestimated, you don't have to be particularly big to be cunning or cause great harm.

From the television show, he remembers her hair being bleach blonde, which is what he is looking for. Even though all the blondes that pass him have no resemblance to her, not even her shape or scent.  _ Maybe look for something a little different. _ He's humored realizing he is slightly bopping his shoulders to the beat of the music as he searches, enjoying himself more than he knows.

A man bumps into him forcefully, smelling of vodka to the point you could get contact drunk. A big man, jock type. 

"Watch where you're going, short little pussy bitch."  _ I'm not even really short, but ok dude... You're just really fucking big. _

A testing reincarnation of father.

A woman grabs the man. 

"I- I'm so sorry!! Mike please behave- you're really drunk-" The man glares down to the woman as she shushes.

A pitiful caricature of mommy. They wonder off as the drunk man words  _ fuck you _ at him.

  
  


Jack is ten again. He has just gotten home from school, feet blistered from the walk from the bus stop he makes each day. His stomach always grows heavier as he approaches home, ominously waiting in the distance from the little dirt trail. No warm chocolate chip cookies or a mother's embrace wait, as the persistent juvenile loneliness of a broken child has been eating at his core since his young brain had the capability of making memories.

His house key twists in the nob before the door flies open to that same smell, strong alcohol and a robust hand grabbing his shirt collar, yanking him in with a jerk. Father is big, 6'4''. It's all happening so fast he doesn't have time to even recollect what he is about to be beaten for; Forgetting to do the dishes again? Getting home too late to start dinner before 5? Not folding the laundry right? 

He is flown to the ground landing hard on his tailbone with a steel toed boot plowing into his ribs.

  
  


With an exhale, teleporting is back to the party in fast subconscious time travel. Being haunted by his former tormentor is nothing new and somewhat motivating in a sick way, making him emotionally colder. Every person he murders and inflicts pain on is tethered to him through shared suffering. Jack doesn't know, but killing makes him feel less bottled in his isolation. The shine leaves his eyes even farther.

Even when he is underestimated in size and strength, he should know by now he was blameworthy of the same affliction through being ableist. Green eyes look around again, before spotting a set of antlers. Call it sixth sense, but he horns in on them and follows still staying out of sight. An opening unfolds and he sees a man approach the antlers, becoming startled. Her hair is shoulder length and lightly curled, but blue? Maybe, perhaps...

He then sees the antlered woman reject the stranger's advances without words, with a gesture of her index finger to her mouth while shaking her head. The stranger walks away from the antlered woman. She is long legged, with a small waist and wide hips creating an hourglass, while it's sands slide ignorant to the fact it may be running out of time. This might be Maddie.

She leers all around, walking the perimeter while he inches closer trailing behind her. The antlered woman turns his direction but her eyes are closed. she is  _ feeling  _ everything. He can only imagine what type of sensations this is bringing while also noting this is Maddie, almost marveling at what her experience must be like. 

_ A deer? Really? _

The deer heads to the bar and once again he moves the way she goes. He's confused, not knowing what to do in a public place. A light bulb appears above his head with an idea that this was a date and to not forget it.  _ Buy the girl a drink. _ Her face is alight with her phone at the other side of the bar when he sneaks over. He waves down the bartender, lifting the mask to speak.

"Hey, see that really cute girl with the antlers over there?" He says with a smile, leaning in. The bartender looks and nods. "Give her a rum and coke from me. I met her hunting down south last year, tell her that and she will  _ know  _ who it's from. She doesn't get out much." The bartender agrees as he gives out another ten putting the mask back on, walking away fast to the far wall out of reach with his hands snuggly in his coat pockets. 

Game set and match with the first move. Cat and mouse doesn't have to be so visceral, and almost breaking the fourth wall, he thinks this is more of a psychological thriller anyways. Watching, he sees her shift making it apparent she got the drink and the memo as the light of her phone goes off. Maddie stands, and goes to the dance floor where most of the people are. Jack stays in the spot leaning against the wall. Every time he hunted her, it was significantly more intimate than any other stalking, with human interaction in the worst ways.

It's easy when 80's slasher movies have masked men all around you yet you're the only real one. It all feels like some cosmic joke and a decent camouflage all at once. Hunting on Halloween wasn't so bad after all, when all the freaks can come out and wear their true faces proudly. While thinking to himself he sees her move to the banquet table as he starts to obtrude. She's eating a cupcake adorably and Jack notes she has her cellphone in her back pocket.

_ Get the phone _ , he thinks.

Like that night, she is alone, but maybe now is more taunting that she is alone surrounded by others, or a solemn reminder she is the most independent person in the entire world right at this very moment. Moved close to keep her secret company, he can see she senses him as she starts to head another direction. 

Jack bumps hard into her back as he pick-pockets the iPhone with dexterity and seeps into a group before she notices. 

He catches her scent remembering how she smells of vanilla and estrogen intoxicatingly. He wants to eat her alive then bury her bones in a garden, to bloom white and yellow flowers he can look at forever. Pick them and smell her sweet aroma long after she's rotted away living eternally as a ghost in his memory, what a tragic romance it would be. Casting aside boyish daydreams he sees her go down a hall.

_ I've moved too fast... But I did get her phone. I need to fuck with her a little more, and she can't get out of my sight. _

The hall reminds him of something from The Shining as motionless fake witches look at him with cackling faces. A woman in an angel costume is heading his direction with a pissed off look in her eye.

" _ Hey _ , hi! Uhm, I'm sorry to bother you, but did you see a girl about my height with blue hair and little antlers on come this way?" He fakes breathing heavy as he is moving his mask up.

"Yeah, she ran into the bathroom! Almost gave me a black eye!" she replies as she looks back at the ladies washroom.

"Oh thank god,  _ whew _ ...... Jesus, I'm sorry. She's my girlfriend and she's deaf. Some freaky guy was following her around and  _ whoosh _ off she went!" 

"Poor girl, that sucks. Should someone call the cops?"

"-Oh no  _ NO _ hahaha, I uh- chased him off into the parking lot. I'm sure he's gone. Just some drunk douche bag.  _ Scary guy _ . Thank you so much, though."

"You're welcome, there are some real creeps out there. That murder with the three women was so fucked up and the guy could be anywhere, so be careful."

"Ha ha right? Fucking crazy. Thanks again and have a great night." The subject made him feel put on the spot.

The angel woman goes to leave then pauses "Hey, do you and your girl uhm....  _ do Blow _ ?"

"Oh woah uh.... like, cocaine?" this has gone in a totally different direction.

She looks back and forth lowering her voice and moving closer "Yeah, Coke. I'm selling and have an eight ball left I need to get rid of it. I don't want to be riding dirty on the way home. I was selling it for $350 but will sell it to you for $250. It's really good." He cocks his head, furrowing his brow. At the beginning of the night he had 500 cash in his wallet and didn't really care if it all got spent but this has been a little more expensive then he wanted. Jack has done coke for fun, yet he can acknowledge drugs as a tool for fighting off exhaustion and pain. The angel woman feels fated though in her holy offering, it's best not to ignore the burning bush.

"Ok... Yeah, I have $250. I'll take it off your hands." They exchange money and a small baggy stealthy before the angel woman flutters away. He mouths  _ what the fuck _ as he comes back to reality with a new member of his arsenal; Cocain. The mask goes back on, and Maddie is still in the bathroom. Maybe two pushes and things can get started rolling. As he thinks, a shot girl prances by with a single shot left as her free hand is messing with a fanny pack on her hip.

"Can I buy that off you?" The shot girl almost passes him.

"Yeah, for sure. It's my last one so that's perfect." She's clearly ready to go home for the night and he might as well be doing her a favor, and get rid of another ten bucks.

"So, here's the catch; A girl is in the bathroom. She's unable to hear though, and I want her to have this shot."

"Like, deaf?"

"Yeah, like deaf. Deaf and mute. She's my friend."

"Ok uhm... Hey, I have a pen and napkin. Right her a note and I'll just give her the shot with the note so it's not so weird?" He should be thanking her for the idea but he plays it cool and scribbles something short and sweet and gives it to the shot girl as they trade money for alcohol and he creeps back off feeling satisfied.

He has managed to buy good time as it's almost 1:30 AM and people are starting to leave. This has been fun, still with a more suggestive and delicate torture method but he would do this all over again in a heart beat. A bit of time passes as he waits with his back against the door turning from the hall when Maddie marches past him.

In all her glory stands the sacred deer as the strobe lights have gentled to one red gleam, skylighting her celestially. His footsteps are light as he approaches her from the back, as slowly as he can to lift his mask to avoid any sudden movements. 

Once a foot behind her, he blows on the back of neck, the blue curls bounce as he snatches the mask back over himself.

She turns to greet his eyes right as he takes her cellphone out, waving it at her, just like when they first met.

Time stands to a sudden halt with their gazes locked hypnotically. He becomes boozy with a primal tunnel vision, feeling himself fall into a black, calculating, mental silence he had been waiting to go into. Maddie doesn't look scared, but determined. It's breathtaking, he could love her for it if he wasn't only capable of holding her in so much contempt. Jack goes back into the crowd leaving her like a break up.

She heads out the door looking back one last time, her antlers falling to the ground.

_ "Do it, coward."  _

No words, just energy.

No glass doors or bathroom skylight windows to break. No wine keys.

Or so he hopes. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading so far. If you like, please kudos and comment. Be patient for the next few chapters, I have to think them out so everything meshes well.  
> Also, I love that Maddie is so capable in the movie and don't want her to loose that strength. This might be my fucked up interpretation, but I'm still a fan of what the original is: a story of survival from someone who you might pity, but is actually stronger because of it.  
> I will always love John Gallagher Jr as his role, too. A killer with a face who can bleed was an amazing touch. NOW LETS ALL SPAM HIM ON SOCIAL MEDIA TO GIVE THE FULL CANON BACKSTORY OF THE MAN OUT! Damnit, John!


	7. Vibrations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Into the woods, for old times sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The part in bold with strange grammar is American Sign Language (ASL). It's a full language with grammar similar to Mandarin.  
> Finger-spelling is when a word or usually a name or place is spelled out with letters instead of a singular sign. If you see a word spelled like T-H-I-S that means it's being spelled.
> 
> ASL when it's wrote out is wrote in all caps. I didn't feel right changing how it's supposed to be wrote in that scene because I wanted it to feel like accurate sign language. I know people hate all caps, but that scene needed it and I wanted to stay true to ASL.

The Volkswagen was parked in the heart of the parking lot, purposely put in shot of the security cameras. 1:45 Am and people were leaving, paying bar tabs while drinking water in an attempt to sober before driving. Her plan was to lure him out and call the police but she learned he had a talent for pick-pocketing.

"Go to the forest?"

_ "That's his domain. You'll die there." _

"Drive home? Try to lose him?"

_ "That's a two hour drive on an empty highway in the dead of night. He probably drove here. Drive slow and he might be able to shoot your tire. Drive fast and he might crash into your car. _

_ Or if you leave, he will kill someone else.... He has your phone. He might even try to get Max to drive here, if he remembers her, and your phone has no password. _ "

"Oh God.... What about writing a note to someone to call the police and ask for help?"

_ "That could work..." _ She looks back at the front door and sees him standing leaning back against the wall, hands in pockets with his legs crossed. Watching her curiously, hyperborean in his psychopathy. The Man then takes out her phone, and does what looks to be trying to text on it. He slides the phone back into his coat. Her eyes widen as he lifts his gloved right hand, moving his fingers in a way she instantly recognizes- he is finger-spelling.

M - A - X

Can he sign? A communication curve-ball hits her hard, knowing that he can keep his mask on this way. Nor does she have any idea of how literate he is, anyone can learn the ASL alphabet in elementary school. Still, her hands lift and begin to reply scrutinizingly.

"NOTEPAD PEN, I HAVE. POLICE- WILL TELL. SISTER- LEAVE ALONE. PLEASE." She signs unhurriedly yet with aggression. He cocks his head, his black gloved hands start to word.

"TEXT M-A-X ALREADY. TOLD HER YOU MEET MAN, GO HOME WITH HIM. YOU LEAVE? I KILL WAITRESS. YOU LEAVE? M-A-X COME TAKE YOUR PLACE, TELL HER FLAT TIRE. SLIT M-A-X THROAT."

_ He's not as stupid as she thought. _

"I TELL SOMEONE BEFORE YOU DO ANYTHING. NOT AFRAID. COWARD. F-U-C-K YOU. GO JAIL, YOU."

"CAN'T COME BACK- BUILDING. WON'T ALLOW YOU." He begins to walk forward into the parking lot. "KILL YOU RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW. GO JAIL FINE. DO NOT CARE. BLOOD FOR BLOOD. POCKET KNIFE." 

_ Too many endings, and their all the same. _

Maddie steps backwards, heeding his threat and taking it seriously. She can see the clear convection in his icy, green eyes. The Man decides to get in the last word.

"YOU HEAD START. CHANCE, SURVIVE. I COUNT 60. GO NOW. FINISH WHAT WE STARTED"

Normally Maddie would have been touched by someone trying to sign that wasn’t hard of hearing, but this felt almost mocking. And worst, he was doing it well. The Man practicing ASL just to use it on someone he wants revenge on? Blasphemy.

It's sad, here they are having this awful conversation and no one can hear it. The door man is long gone, and even though people are passing no one seems to really be paying attention to them at the slightest. She goes to her car and grabs the baseball bat while looking around. All the cars parked near her have already left and she prays the security camera sees her even if she still ends up dead. With each second passing, she trots to the woods with a racing mind.

_ "The only way you will survive this is if you take advantage of being deaf." _

She understands, taking her shoes off quick but leaving her socks on before disappearing into the dense web of trees. 

A baseball bat. Pepper spray. An airhorn. A pen. Her teeth. Her deafness. These are all the weapons she has. It could be more than enough if used right or practically nothing if used wrong. The patch of wilderness is very thick, difficult to move in and it wouldn’t be hard to face plant into a tree trunk. 

Darkness is all consuming, making this all feel like entering a monstrous mouth, chewing and digesting anything anticipated. Maddie’s eyesight is sharp as the moon becomes a cosmic torch that the sky holds for her with endlessly kind arms.

But it also holds the torch for  _ Him. _

Lord knows how much he had been hunting, stalking or waiting. Has he gotten rusty and lost his pizazz or matured into a less impulsive apex predator? 

Or maybe time away had only made him well rested and lustful to take a life without mercy? He can bleed, though, she reminds herself. He can scream while she both won’t and can’t.

_ I’m not so weak and powerless over you. _

_ “Find a tree and hide behind it. You’re going to need to concentrate. Listen with your feet to the earth when he moves. Pay attention to changes in smell and air pressure, shifts in the wind. Don’t be discouraged.” _

“I’m not discouraged. I’m as ready as I can be though.I don’t have an option to turn back even if I wanted to… And I kinda want to.”

_ “Kill him tonight, once and for all.” _

“No shit, Sherlock.”

Everything around her is shadows, ominous in the obscure. Maddie crouches, touching her hand to the moist dirt. She can tell that nothing is approaching yet and the ground is still motionless. There was an unparalleled tension in the night air, so taut it might snap at any moment.

Memories begin to replay, bringing her back to a time when she was playing hide and seek before she went deaf, then shakes her head to stay present.

Before Maddie stands, her palm and the soles of her feet feel a slight vibration of footsteps in the distance. It’s faint and far but drawing near unwaveringly. There is no time to be afraid. 

“Just a man. That’s all he is. Nothing less. Nothing more.”

_ “He is coming. Brace yourself” _

_ \---------------------------------- _

  
  


Jack almost felt smug signing back and forth with her after all this time. A twisted fantasy that had finally come to play out in reality, just the way he wanted it to. But he was disappointed in how fearless she seemed, and the lack of apprehension was rather threatening. She probably didn’t have a gun, yet he saw the baseball bat and if he wasn't careful that could do a lot of damage.

The jeep is parked at the far side of the parking lot almost in the grass. He had counted to 60 keeping his word and made his way to the car where supplies had been waiting. No one is around as the crossbow is unloaded and the backpack slung across his shoulders.

It would be a little weird to see a masked man taking out a hunting weapon in front of a hotel, even on Halloween night.

With the edge of the forest in front of him, he stops and takes out the air-soft goggles thinking ahead. Pepper spray is a go-to easy weapon most women carry to the point it’s expected. He sees a pair of converse on the ground.

Once concealed in the woods with the sounds of bugs chirping, he cocks the crossbow with a steel bolt loaded. His footsteps are light, rolling his heels to his toes. Looking down, he sees ladylike footprints imprinted in the mud leading deep into the woods.

Onward he goes, looking everywhere at each shadow and animal.

_ She’ll be able to feel me before I see her _ , he thinks.

Jack’s too late realizing that before swooping from behind a tree is Maddie, embedding a ball point pen into the ball of his knee. Instantly it’s one of the worst pains he has ever felt. 

As Maddie runs he points the crossbow at her firing a shot, impaling her hand to a tree. A mute scream as she grabs at the bolt.

“You fucking cunt!!” He exclaims pulling the pen out of his leg with a growl. He comes at her with a knife as she pulls the bolt out and darts North. Blood pours from his knee as he growls.

_ A god damn pen, I swear I’ll cut her fucking hands off for this.  _

He remembers he was still able to get a shot in, wondering why she didn’t just club him with the bat. Maybe she wanted to hurt him first. Regardless, he loads another bolt. A shot through the hand was a good first start for him while a pen to the knee was good for her. Cat- on - cat already.

She skirts out again and tries to spray him in the face with mace. As observant as she was, in the heat of the moment she didn’t even notice his mouth and eyes were fully protected. Jack kicks her in the stomach with the pepper spray bottle rolling away. Maddie flies to the ground as leaves burst under her. Her other hand bleeding is still gripping the bat tightly.

He points another bolt, aiming at her heart but gets her shoulder as she moves. It barely phases her as she slings the bat at his head, hitting his jaw from the side. His mask shatters and a tooth ejects with a spurt of saliva and blood. Her strike wasn’t as hard as it would have been being her arm and hand were injured, sparing him a broken jaw.

Jack pulls out the carved antler hilted knife before she has time to even try to get the bolt out, slashing at her wildly. A cut across her chest and cheek making her grimace. More silent cries from her open wordless lips. She is fast, staying just out of reach of a true stab to a vital organ. He wants to get her purse off her before she can pull another trick out of her bag but she boldly blasts him again with the bat, obviously aiming for his arm but getting his ribs.

This wasn’t a pursuit of prey, yet hand to hand combat with a rageful and somewhat prepared opponent was unprecedented. 

The air is hit out of him as he feels a crack. Spared a broken jaw in trade for a few broken ribs.

One more time she hits him across the side of his head making stars appear and a ring irrupts in his ears, almost incapacitating him.

He grabs the bat and pulls it away from her as she flees with the sound of cracking twigs from under her.

Jack staggers for a second still holding the bat, feeling faint.

He takes a moment and leans against a tree as he picks up the mace. Status report takes in some broken ribs, a stabbed knee, broken teeth and a dizzying concussion. She has the advantage, she is feeling him before he can get to her.

She doesn’t have the mace or bat anymore which is a relief.

Listening and holding his breath, he is thanking.

_ How can I get ahead of her? What will give me control back? _

The backpack zips open as he sees the sound counselling ear muffs, getting an idea- become deaf like her. Fight on her level. His energy is already painfully low with a rattled brain. Pulling his knife out from his coat pocket, the small bag of cocaine from earlier falls out.

The angel truly did bring a holy offering.

Quickly he unties his shoes and puts them in his backpack. Now is not the time for the crossbow and she already had some good sticks in her from it.

The small bag of drugs is open and he dips a gloved finger in, bringing it to his nostril and snorting thoroughly. The ear muffs cover his ears as perception shifts from sound to deafness.

The pulse rises in his veins as a surge of vigor cuts into him like a whip. The world truly is hushed now, making him almost empathetic to how Maddie feels. Straight backed, flexing his shoulders with pepper spray in hand and relit, there’s a glimmer of hope.

Her weapon, her turf, her level. 

He feels a vibration and smells vanilla as he hears a muffled sound, turning to her as she is trying to use an air horn to confound him. She looks shocked that he is standing, unphased. 

Going to run away again, he sprays the pepper spray directly into her face point-blank before she is able to leave. Coughing, gasping, her pink fingertips clawing at eyes with the torturesome sting of blinding chemicals.

He is watching, cold and unhelping. The Grim Reaper in the body of a man.

_ I could grab the crossbow and shoot her in the temple. _

_ I could stab her everywhere. _

_ I could saw off her hands and leave her to die. _

_ I could rip her clothes off and fuck her. _

_ No…. _

_ I think I’ll just take her home instead. _

Crouching, Maddie bites at him not being able to see where he is. Without hearing he can understand her emotions better, filled with anger and hatred but no revulsion, not yet. In response he grabs her in a choke hold, the closest thing he has given to a hug in what feels like years.

_ “Shhh, easy… Easy…” _

The reflex to soothe is automatic, not even taking into account her lack of hearing. Shushing and rocking her like a baby in his grip till she goes unconscious, falling limp on the brink of asphyxiation.

He had shifted from a hunter to a butterfly collector, perhaps.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading so far. The next chapter is going to take a minute and be a one off of just Maddie's perspective.
> 
> Some fun Hush Trivia: crossbows are set for the user for how tight the strings are. John Gallagher Jr actually used the crossbow and had it set for himself, quoting "it's a hard weapon to use; I can only cock it by using my foot." When Kate was acting out the scene of trying to use it, her reaction was real because it had been set for a man, having said "I really was pulling with all my might!"
> 
> Leave comments and Kudos!


	8. The Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maddie awakes in a strange place. Alone and trapped, she investigates discovering dark secrets.  
> Pretty much a Maddie only chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS FOR CHAPTER: VIOLENCE. REFERENCED MURDER. TROPHIES OF MURDER. FEELINGS OF HOPELESSNESS. If you are here and know the movie, you should be aware this isn't a cute story. The next few chapters are going to be extremely bleak. The next chapter might be the worst.
> 
> A simple yet dark chapter. I had a lot of fun fleshing out details into this one location, so much character development within four walls. I didn't want to get too poetic with the writing.
> 
> Ed Kemper: A psychopathic serial killer known for his charm, high IQ and being super tall. Like dumb tall. Look him up. 
> 
> Oxycodone can be prescriped to kids in slow release form if they are post surgery.

Her eyelids heavy and crusted begin to flutter open to the soft light of the afternoon sun shining on her from a small window. She smells dandruff, almost like an old overused hairbrush realizing she has a pillow under her head. Someone else’s heavily used pillow. Drool has made a wet spot where she has been laying face down for an unknown amount of time.

A wave of pain rushes over her as she tries to move. Raising herself and looking around, her mind begins to revolve as a bleak reality hits her; She doesn’t know where she is. Her eyes grow wide as the memories of the events that lead up to this moment start to manifest. Could this be The Man’s home?

Maddie would imagine an aphotic torture chamber for him over this snug soft California king bed with sun rays and muted colors. The walls have an old 1970’s wall paper over it, peeling where the roof meets. A pale olive green with bits of golden yellow. It’s the master bedroom, she thinks.

Directly in front of the bed is the front door leading to the rest of the house. There’s a closet on the left side with what appears to be a bathroom on the adjacent wall. A dresser next to the bathroom door.

“Why not just kill me when he had the chance?”

_ “He’s a sadistic psycho, that’s why…” _

She decides to get up and investigate further as she notices her pants are clammy from urinating in self defense when he was suffocating her. For a man of mid size stature, he sure was one relentless and powerful son of a bitch when he kept his head on straight. Maddie was fine with dying then, oddly. Her and death had already shaken hands before, it was no longer a frightening stranger. 

The door being shut didn’t make her feel trapped, as it made a blockade for whatever caustic fate was waiting for her on the other side. Daintily, her toes touched the hard would floor as she tiptoed. She begins to search for clues as to where, what and when is happening or about to happen. The room smells of men’s cologne and deodorant, with a hint of timber and dust.  _ This is where he gets ready for the day. _

She tries the doorknob discovering it’s locked from the outside, which is rather unusual.

The curtains are burgundy with a stale coat of cobwebs sticking to them. A part in the middle peaks brightness like hope as she pushes them open to reveal glass panes shielded with black, cast iron bars.  _ A god damn bared window, just my fucking luck. _ The world outside is a lush forest with orange and brown fall leaves. No neighbors and unfamiliar.

The view is nearly scenic, reminiscent of her old get-away back in Fairhope. It’s an untouched world with no roads or houses or people. The prospect of rescue has long gone, left behind somewhere on the side of the highway. She came to the dresser, seeing a bottle of spring water and a small sticky note with two white pills next to it.

Written in all caps, the note says “ANTIBIOTIC AND PAINKILLER, FOR YOU.” She’s dehydrated and takes the bottle, drinking it thirstily before swallowing the pills without hesitation.  _ If these are cyanide then let it spare me from suffering.  _ Looking down, she sees her converse are on the ground.

“He grabbed my shoes?”

_ “Unpredictable little bastard.” _

Sparing no time she keeps looking around for anything that whispers to her. Dressers have drawers and drawers hold answers. The top drawer is opened to reveal a tightly packed stack of papers, letters and official documents. Some junk mail. She looks through the pile feverishly feeling sweat drip down her brow.  _ I need his name… I need an address. _

An electric bill on plain white paper gives her a title to him other than The Man. Jack Gallagher. She sucks air in seeing the address, discovering she has been kidnapped to some place in Milledgeville, Georgia. The mail is being sent to a P.O. box. 

Maddie is stuck in another state, stranded in Pandora's box with a violent murderer. “This has to be a nightmare, just a bad dream brought on by stress” She reasons with herself internally. She began to question how long she’d been unconscious. Imaging him watching her, defenseless and snoring in arms reach makes her fidget. Continuing, she pulls out a slim lavender file from under a vintage Playboy magazine.

“Oh my god. These are college transcripts.”

He has an Associates Degree in Criminal Justice from a Georgia community college. She assumed he would be uneducated and more thuggish, but psychopaths can be extremely intelligent. Edmund Kemper is an example with an IQ of 145, she recollects. The transcript is a gold mine of information on him.

“So I’m in Georgia, in the forest with a man named Jack Gallagher. He’s 31, has an associates and lives in the forest in Bumfuckt, Egypt…”

_ “Don’t forget he’s a serial killer.” _

“Oh yes, thanks for reminding me! He is also a fucking serial killer that hunts women like fucking deer in the middle of the god damn night for no logical reason!”

She moves on to a drawer on the left that’s empty except for a mysterious shoe box. The box radiates an unmistakable aura, both beckoning and repelling with its simplicity. Maddie takes it out and places it on top of the dresser. Apprehensive, she lifts the top off, peering into it’s shallow depths.

It’s jewelry and various knick knacks. An out of place collection of what looks like women’s jewelry and items, to be precise, with a pair of glasses mixed in. She reaches in and picks up a small gold ring with a single diamond . A tar like black residue can be seen on it. Dried blood. Maddie has found his box of trophies.

She remembers the crude 13 slices in his crossbow, mortified by his cardboard treasure chest casually put where someone would keep their clean underwear. A thin silver chain with hair and crusted blood on it twinkles next to an elastic bracelet with multicolored ceramic beads. A belly button ring with a fake ruby. Stylish black framed glasses with the engravings of tiny flowers and leaves and cracked lenses.

A pearl ear stud. A gold locket with a picture of a Labrador inside. A pink button the size of a dime. A large brown claw hair clip with a few strands of black hair wrapped in it still. A set of Honda car keys with a retired house key that looks like whoever it belonged to had stabbed him with it. A tube of partially melted red lipstick. A glitter blue acrylic nail with the real nail still stuck underneath, black with blood no doubt.

Finally at the bottom was John’s watch and Sarah’s silver dangle earring. This set of trinkets she’s stumbled across is the most horrifying thing Maddie has ever seen, making the reality of her current bearings sorely destitute. Seeing 13 pin marks is incomparable to seeing 14 palpable objects that can be held, some with hair and blood still left behind.

How can a human being possibly commit crimes as godless as this? The box is put back in the drawer and shut, wishing she hadn’t looked. A final drawer is opened to reveal clean grey and black shirts folded on top of each other. A sigh of relief to see something normal.

The dresser is a cursed, tainted piece of furniture. Whatever it wants to tell her at this point it can proudly keep to itself. She skirts to the closet noticing it’s already a little open. Nothing out of the ordinary, some hanging button up shirts and what looks like a tan work uniform and a few coats. An old camo uniform wrapped in plastic hung in the corner. A photo album is on the top shelf.

Whatever that photo album has inside, she’s not ready to know. In rejection she closes the closet door with a click of the door handle. Step by miniscule step, Maddie inches to the bathroom. Just a basic bathroom with an antique ceramic tub. Piles of clothes and a medicine cabinet with a cracked mirror.

She goes back to the bed, feeling like she has accomplished nothing except further actualizing this decrepit place is just a tomb in the guise of a cabin. Whatever kind of opiod the painkiller was is starting to take effect, making her feel more comfortable yet drowsy. Out of the corner of her eye she notices shapes on the wall she hadn’t paid attention to before.

Looking over she sees printed news articles taped to the wall of murders spreading all over the United States. As far south as Florida to as far North as Maine. She winces as she moves closer, noticing hand written notes on each document. The one from Florida says “Karen. Ring”. He didn’t know all the names but he had noted each item taken from the people he killed in those spots.

“Ring. Karen. Florida.

Silver chain. Ashley. Washington.

Lipstick. Maria. Texas.”

One says “Cindy, Mandy, Sarah. Message. Alabama.”

It went on in that methodical order. The ones he didn’t know only have a large question mark for the name. In the center is the honorable mention from  _ Unwelcome Visitor _ for John and Sarah’s murder with the word “Cunt” wrote angrily across it. It’s too much- to see all of this as a blaring testament of last will.

The despair started to bubble out of her stormily with sobs rumbling in her throat like thunder. More breathy then howl-like as silent wheezy crying passed through her ruptured larynx. Maddie’s arms cocooned her shaking chest as she gave herself condolence. Livid spirits of the damned wept alongside her.

She thought she could do it, catch him like the pest he is. Police would have just meddled and scared him off, and she had no concrete proof he was associated with the Montgomery campfire killing because of lack of DNA. She would have just been denied as paranoid. Turned away to let the police handle it. “I should have tried to get the police involved… He is going to kill me and keep going.”

_ Hold out. _

Nothing to be used as a weapon, not even a wire coat hanger or a thumb tack. A grave situation completely desperate at it’s very best.  _ He’ll chop my body up into pieces- I’ll be remembered as the modern Black Dahlia. _

Her mind distracts itself realizing he is a mostly clean person aside from the pile of clothes in the restroom. The bed was made. He did need to change his pillow case but being he’s a bachelor it’s excusable.

_Wait, what the fuck are you thinking?_ _Don’t let the fear consume you into ignorance! Hello? Earth to Maddie? Maddie?_

_ I’m so tired. I remember this heavy feeling from when I was given medication after the surgery. I’m not in pain at least. I think I might be a little high from it, though. This feels like Oxycodone. Gosh, I was in so much pain after they tried to fix my ears and voice. All it did was fuck me up worst... I don’t want to worry anymore. I don’t want to be scared anymore. I’m sorry, me. I’m just going to go back to sleep until he comes in and chops me up with an axe. _

She lays down in a fetal ball, resting herself on his pillow. The only sound she can hear is the steady beat of her lowering pulse. A deep exhale of drugged resolve as a veil of darkness covers her eyes. She feels like a teenager again. She  _ is  _ a teenager again.

\----------------------------

Jack had been awake for about an hour with a pounding headache. Maddie was firmly locked in his room, utilizing the locks his father would use to keep him and his mother from escaping their tower of abuse. He had left her a gift of medicine being he doesn’t want her to die before he can get to her. “Maybe the medication will calm her down.”

His body was now a garden of fresh injuries, burning with each expansion of breath on his fractured ribs. Blood was still pooling around his gums from the pit of the missing molar. His greasy, beaten face was washed in the kitchen sink as he tried to avoid the purple bruise on his jaw.

He had slept on the couch, leaving his bed to her in his room which doubled as a makeshift cell. The sound of creaking floor boards could be heard from her as she walked around investigating where she was. Curiously, he rests his ear against the door, listening to her timidly rummage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments and kudos are always appreciated.
> 
> Hush movie trivia:  
> During filming, Kate and John Gallagher got along really well because John is a sweetheart. So they decided to be cold with each other on set and act like they hated each other. There's behind the scene pictures where they are just looking away, looking super grumpy.


	9. Glacier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going into the mind of The Man a bit more. A Jack/The Man mostly chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS FOR TALK OF SEXUAL ASSAULT AND BEING RAPEY. DETAILING MENTAL ILLNESS.
> 
> Gunne Sax: An old school brand of hippy dresses from the 60's-90's.
> 
> His chapter details more of Jack's perspective on being a psychopath.
> 
> His mother is named after Shelley Duval lol

Close to an hour passed before the symphony of creaks and footsteps halted behind the bedroom door. He wondered if Maddie took the Oxycodone, hoping it would leave her a bit more amicable. Jack needed a shower and a change of clothing. Maybe a stiff shot of whiskey to smother the vexation in his crooked bones.

_ She’s going to leave my sheets smelling of piss, _ he thought callously. An extralocal thing he wasn’t sure of was trying to flex it’s atrophied muscles in him, an emotion that never really grew independent enough to walk on its own.  _ Empathy.  _ The awareness of how he should be feeling something else could make him sad,  _ could,  _ if only he knew how.

_ I’ll give her something to change in, only because I hate that smell. I’ve smelled it before, been covered in it before by others. Been covered in their piss, shit, blood and vomit. Just not in my house. I like my bed, thank you very much. I like my bed more than I could ever like her or anyone else.  _ The infant muscle paused, crawling back away with its tail between its legs

Mother was a gaunt wisp of a woman like most drug addicts. There's a box of her clothing in the attic probably eaten away by moths, but if he can find something salvageable he will loan it to Maddie for the time being. The wooden staircase is folded down and he goes into the hot storage area, grabbing a dusty box with the words “Shelley’s clothing” written on it in fading black ink.

Everything inside has a lingering scent of woodiness and the musk of time. Faint memories of being a little boy with someone lovable rub against his brain cells yet Jack won’t allow it to make him feel, not again. He couldn’t if he tried. The box was taped shut preserving some dresses and shirts, revealing a mystic Gunne Sax laced with an old floral design on the top.

Stealing Maddie back to his home was an improvised decision he figured, but it was really what he wanted to do all along. She was something precious that was coveted, rare and omnipotent. He fucking hated it, her unrelentless power through her callow disregard for trepidation. A talent for withholding screams.

Hatred for her meant feeling for her. Feeling for her meant he wanted her. Him wanting her meant ruining the fantasy. Ruining the fantasy meant taking away power. A vicious loop of foreign conflicting circumstances that broke the mold of his morbid organization.

A week before the night in Fairhope, the longest relationship he had accomplished was broken off suddenly. Her name was Christina, a pretty mixed woman who was a good place holder for company. Jack met her while she was hunting ducks with her father in law. “I’m a sucker for a man in uniform,” he remembered her flirting.

Courting for about four months, it was becoming apparent Christina was put off by Jack, growing more aware of his psychopathy and antisocial personality. She pestered him about not smiling enough and being cold with her friends and parents. Behind his back, her friend’s started to nickname him  _ Ted _ and  _ Jack the Ripper  _ traitorously. 

There was a detachment that stringed off him, tangled in a compressed frigidness that if people got close enough, it started to burn with emotional frostbite. Jack was a walking glacier.

_ He’s nice but the more we are around him the more something feels just fucking off about the guy, Chrissy. Like, he totally smiled at the impalement seen in Dracula! Didn’t give a flying fuck when I told him Buddy got ran over by a car. Literally walked away when Lisa started crying about her grandmother dying… The more we are around him, the weirder he gets. He’s super fake, a creepy fucking poser… _

It was a tragic snow-ball effect of his counterfeit persona cracking as he got more comfortable. He never cared enough to keep pushing for that far away humanity. His phone lighting with her late night texts of desire were uneventful, and he was starting to experience sexual incompetence. She was predictable. Boring.

“Jack, uhm… I’m so sorry it’s just… I don’t think this is working out anymore, sweetheart.” Christina had said after asking if he could meet her outside by the car. Taken back, Jack replied “... Really? Ok… Uhm. That’s fine. I’m sorry?” He never had anyone stop seeing him before he did. “See,  _ that’s _ why this isn’t working out. You’re not very good with social cues and emotions. I think you should maybe see a specialist.” Christina was being honest and tried to stab at his ego. “Ok. Thanks. See you around, Christina… ” He was unbothered. Relationships would come and go. This was the first one he let drag on and the other end cut the tie- He would have a little fun with her when she was in front of him, yet when she left she never crossed his mind. 

Christina was intelligent and so were her friends, because he had already killed 12 people at this point. Seven days later, Sarah Greene was stabbed to death in Fairhope, Alabama. 

The Gunne Sax is behemion and feminine. It still holds a shard of his mother's essence in it’s threads, leaving him in a state of nostalgia. Back downstairs he goes, gripping it tightly like it might fly away. Maddie was making him do things Christina didn’t- like think about his mother again and go into the attic. Malice was a better motivator than the prospect of an admiration that would never exist.

Grabbing his hunting knife with the dress over his shoulder, he goes to the door unsure of what is the correct course of action. Slowly, he twists the lock undone and creeps through the doorway paying attention to any sudden movements. She’s sleeping, curled in a defensive fetal position.

Of course she can’t hear him yet he is still very careful. She’s a mess of cuts and bruises, dirtied with earth. Smeared faint paint across her face and unruly hair. It’s clear the Oxycodone has been taken and is working as she snores softly. The peacefulness is unexpected, leaving him restless. The air around has cooled in a spiritual snowstorm.

The dress is laid at the foot of the bed under her. Its old fashioned Woodstock class is a reminder that his mother was the only person he felt any sense of something close to love. Love in the way he loves. Love in the fact he really needed her. Then a grudge for dying so early and leaving him to rot with his borderline-sociopathic father. The servitude he was feeling made him clench his knuckles till they went white. Palms might bleed pressed against his blunt nails.

Psychopathy doesn’t disregulate physical attraction. He can’t help but stare at her. Maddie is a beautiful creature regardless of being filthy. There’s no deficit in his ability to process aesthetically pleasing things or a woman he would breed with. The ‘warm fuzzy feeling’ one might receive at such a sight is devoid. Still, the lack of a struggle is satisfactory with his labored lungs under a sore oblong contusion not fit for a fight.

The vulnerability between them opens a trap door hidden beneath the surface of his evilness.  _ Would a deaf woman give a hearing man a chance? My signing isn’t terrible. I’d buy her dinner and take her on a hike if I wasn’t utterly insane. If I actually enjoyed such things or we had met in another light. _

She looks so  _ lonely- _ lying there in a large bed with ample room for two people. He could pin her arms above her head while being held a knife point. He could tenderly warm her nipples with his mouth, scraping with his teeth. Graze his bare hand up her lissome inner thigh. Touch his calloused thumb to her clit, haloed by bristled pubic hairs. Make her  _ squirm.  _ Make her  _ scream. _

He’s caught in the paradox between a good knifing and a good dicking. It was all sharp, hard, and piercing- A knife. An arrow. A penis. So phalic that when he killed a woman it was better then having sex with them. Still though, he tried to respect the barrier between rape and murder. Rape felt too primal. Snuffing out a life was more orgasmic then to be stroked or thrusted. What was the point of it? Control. Power. That was the point. Sexual Assault and cold blooded murder were close siblings.

The inkling of molestation never crossed his mind yet now it was running in circles.  _ I would at least be paying the courtesy of not stabbing her.  _ His body floats forward and a knee lands on the mattress as he crawls above her. She stirs again, probably feeling the shift in weight. Her hand comes up, brushing his arm. Maybe in another dimension she was laying in rose petals wearing a red satin slip. They’d met at a coffee shop in the mountains. Somewhere, she wanted this.  _ Am I trying to reason with myself? _

Before the slaughters he found the usual physical pleasures in coitus to be genial- fairly simple to accomplish at that. Target a good looking lady, get to ‘know her’ (sit pretty and pretend to listen to the neverending bullshit with lots of “Mhmm” and “Oh reallys?” Some “I’m so sorry, what a prick” with a touch of “Oh wow! I like that, too!”). No one permitted it to be difficult and he rather wished they had. 

Once he commited murder though, he had crossed a bridge passing from whatever shred he had of commonality into a barren desert of complete self indulgence that was very far flung from reality. There was no turning back. He didn’t want to, as there was nothing to miss behind him.

Maddie is resting on her side, with her arms cradling her head. Legs sheathed in black tights checkered with little holes. She had built a great manor inside his heart, made with stones and bricks with a moat around it. He could huff and puff all he wanted but he couldn’t blow it down. Like a drain was opened, he seeps away from his temptation going back to stand on his feet.  _ I’d win nothing by deflowering you. I want to. I can. I should. But I won’t. I’ll spare you that till it’s time. Till you want it. _

His knee bends as he raises his foot and plows it into the ground in a waking stomp. The whole room wobbles with the force of the convection. Startled, he watches her rouse with a huff flying herself up like a bat out of Hell. A stare off ensues before he points his index finger to change of clothes. Women's clothing in the form of a bonny truce flag.

\----------------------------------------------------------

Maddie looks down seeing a ball of floral cloth, still groggy and head feeling like a vice. Was this some sort of out of character act of kindness?  _ No. No. Don’t be delusional. Now is not the time for Stockholm Syndrome. Hold out. _

The denim of her shorts had dried into an inflexible pale yellow stain around her nethers, sticking to her tights glued with salty waste. A day had passed with the sun turning red at the edge of the horizon from beyond the barred window. Almost a metaphor; red washing between black iron rods. Scarlet against cold metal. Blood flowing from a blade.

The nap felt more like a coma, leaving her still medicated and woozy. Maybe not as powerful but the Oxy is still pumping through her veins. It’s effects are wearing though, and the lacerations are starting to throb. Her face contorts into a grimace in reply to the sudden ache, cluing her capture in that she has woken up to misery.

The Man, now known as Jack, waves his hand in a flapping motion to grab her attention. He goes to sign but it’s not American Sign Language this time, It’s pidgen sign, which is signing while speaking direct English. She goes to watch his lips. “Change your outfit. You stink like piss. I can see you’re hurting so I’ll get you more meds.” His face is an Arctic as he speaks while barely blinking.

She gets a very good hard look at him. He is a white man, stuck somewhere between a plane and maybe attractive. Average and unalarming. Slim with a long neck, not boney yet it’s clear he is active. Sleepy dark green sunken eyes. The tattoo in the side of his neck has friends now, with what looks like a black and grey sparrow with a rose in its beak on the other side. A hidden chest piece. He is still shirted, but what she can see of his sleeves are a black and grey scenery of a forest and animals with chains. She can’t make it all out.

Thin lipped with a long diamond shaped face. A slightly grown out buzz cut of brown hair and heavy stubble. 5’9. A straight nose like a triangle. The look in his eyes is chilling, as there is simply nothing there but a gleam. An aperture into an empty vessel lost at sea.

“YOU… NO KILL ME. WHY?” She signs at him. His eyebrows lift at her effort to communicate. “It’s not time. We still have a lot more fun to have.” He answers back with patient lips and bending fingers.

“MAKE SAME MISTAKE AGAIN.” She signs as he turns away. The voice in her mind intermines concerningly.

“ _ Put the dress on, do as he says for now. Tread carefully. This could go south at any moment. Don’t be an asshole.” _

“Too late. It’s already south.”

_ “Just put the fucking dress on.” _

The Man ( _ Jack, Maddie remember! Humanize him. JACK.)  _ nods his forehead in a jerk towards the restroom as his mouth makes words. “Go change there. The door doesn’t have a lock, don’t bother trying.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably going to delete this fic soon.


End file.
